Irrational Crush
by HavasuWhiskey
Summary: The fantasies about her would need to end, but they couldn't end until she realized they why.
1. Chapter 1

_**Authors Note: This one-shot isn't much of anything. There's no warnings; maybe a little vulgar language. This will be my last story for a little while. I am putting everything that is not finished on a hiatus due to some personal events that need my attention. To be honest, I don't have the motivation to keep up right now with everything that's going on, and I hope all my readers understand and don't take it too hard. However, I do have a little motivation to do short, one chapter, one shots. The only condition I have to writing those is that the readers suggest what they want to read. If any of my readers want a specific one shot they'd like to challenge me with, please leave your ideas in the review box, or my PM box. Try not to make them too complicated and too detailed. I'm hoping that those suggestions from the readers will help get my mind off of things a bit. I do not have enough energy to focus on my long running stories, but I can spare enough for one shots if any of my readers would like to suggest topics. If no topics come in, it'll be awhile before you hear from me as a writer. Well, that is all for now. I hope you enjoy this little snippet that I wrote in the middle of the night. It is from Brennan's point of view, try not to take it too seriously as it is only fiction. It will be easier to follow and understand if you listen along to the song that inspired it. Enjoy and be aware of vulgar language.**_

 _ **Song: Girl Crush by Little Big Town.**_

It was always at night that she thought of them. It was at night when she admitted her true feelings. Realizing in short time that she wanted everything she had. From her long blonde hair to her deep brown eyes. Brennan wanted to kiss her, revel in the feel of her lips and the taste. She was a beautiful woman, smart and athletic, charismatic and funny. Things Brennan wasn't. She didn't understand sarcasm; she couldn't make jokes that everyone could understand. But every night, she wondered how Hannah's hands felt, what her touch felt like. If it was as hypnotic as it looked.

She wished she could drown herself in the woman's perfume, curl up against her and feel her warmth. Everything Hannah had, Brennan wished she could have; could experience. All because they were a part of _him._ Hannah's lips would taste like _his_ , the curve of her neck would smell like his aftershave where he nuzzled her in the morning. She felt her skin begin to tingle, as she lay awake in her bed thinking of it all. Brennan had tried so hard, from drinking herself to sleep to walking in the cold night air to forget about her. To forget the way she pulled him in, to forget the images of the two of them under his sheets in the middle of the night. It was a girl crush unlike anything she'd ever read, studied, or heard about. She only adored and envied Hannah because of what she had. She had _him._ Somehow, Hannah had _him._

No matter how hard she tried, how much wine she sipped, or how far she walked, the images, the thoughts of the beautiful blonde wouldn't leave her alone. She had done everything she could to grab his attention; she cut her hair, gave herself bangs, wore a little more eye make up that Angela suggested would make her eyes 'pop'; whatever that meant. She wore jeans that hugged her hips and accented her rear and made her legs look longer. She researched how to tell funny jokes, how to read sarcasm and how to deliver it. But it hadn't worked; the sexy blonde with a nice bust and athletic build captivated him. Every time they kissed, Brennan caught herself watching not just _his_ lips, but also hers. The way her tongue moved lithely into his mouth, the way her teeth grabbed his lip with playfulness. _How wonderful that would feel_ she thought. The most wonderful part of it all, she thought, was watching _him._ Hips were his favorite thing. If you asked any other male they'd answer breasts or ass. But not _him._ He loved curves, holding the waist and following the curve until he grasped the hips. Her hips tingled as she longed for that touch. But her hips were not Hannah's; they were not curved to match her waist. So she envied even more about the blonde. Wondering and wondering what she would feel like, sound like in the middle of the night when she was being pleasured.

Brennan could see her arching her back in a beautiful dance like way, her lashes fluttering against her cheeks, and that's what she wanted. Because it would be _him_ that was causing it. It would be his lips that she tasted, the warmth of his hands that she felt, and the guttural moans from his throat that she would hear. If only, she could have Hannah. If she could just be with Hannah, have whatever it was that she had. No amount of time spent thinking about her crush had brought her to a conclusion of what he was drawn to. So she continued to fantasize, continued to watch and then relieve herself in the safe confines of her office or sometimes the bathroom. It had taken weeks of this jealousy, of this infatuation to settle down. To realize that it wasn't Hannah that had her this way. It was the notion that she'd feel _him._ She'd feel Booth if she got the chance to hold Hannah, to kiss her. IT would all be him. It wouldn't be Hannah. And that broke her heart more than just watching them.

It wasn't until she'd been dead awake for two days that she caved. That she sat next to him in her office and broke down. She had placed her hand on his thigh, the way she watched Hannah do a thousand times. But his reaction to her wasn't what it was with Hannah; he'd gotten uncomfortable and pulled away from her. His eyes never leaving hers, even when the tears made the blue more prominent and brighter. It had all left her mouth in a rush, every fantasy, every thought, _everything._ And he had just stared at her and listened, his expression blank, his lips in a tight line. She could see the distance in his eyes, the tension in his shoulders and chest, and every word she spoke to him wound him tighter. She was making it all worse, and even as she tried to explain, and apologize, nothing minimized his discomfort.

She had moved away from him, to the furthest end of the couch and diverted her eyes anywhere but him. When he had spoken, she had flinched, her eyes dry and the evidence staining her cheeks. Not expecting him to get up and kneel in front of her she leaned back and tried not look at him. But his hands ran up her thighs and his voice was a deep timbre that she'd never heard before. Nearly missing his offer from the sheer shock of it, her head had snapped back to look him dead in the eyes and reality hit her like a truck. Realizing then, that it wasn't right. She would need to wait it all out, respect what he had. No matter how tempting his offer was. It wasn't right and he'd hate himself and she wasn't going to be the cause of that. With as much confidence and composure as she could muster, she spoke with a shaky voice that it wasn't right. That she wouldn't enjoy what he had to offer if she knew that it would make him suffer later. She had risen to her feet, leaving him there on the floor of her office, proud that she hadn't given in to her irrational thoughts about Hannah.

 _ **THE END**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Authors Note: topaz270 had mentioned had mentioned she wanted to see the Booth POV so here it is. Enjoy.**_

Every day, he noticed something new. They'd both been gone, but only she came back different. Her hair was shorter and lighter as if it was sun bleached, and she had bangs. The way they fell highlighted her eyes and drew him in. Her clothes were different too, tighter, more modern and _sexy_. Every chance he could, he was looking over Hannah's shoulder to watch _her._ The way her hips swayed as she walked, how she tossed her head to force the bangs out of her face because she wasn't used to them. He focused on her make up, curious as to how it gave the illusion of brighter blue in her eyes. At times he thought he saw lust in her eyes, envy maybe. Anytime Hannah was around he caught her staring, admiring the blonde's movements and listening to every word. He had tried to suggest subtly that she tell him what was going on, except she had avoided it each time leaving him figuring that she didn't notice her own behavior.

It bothered him, the way she stared at Hannah, but not in the way that it made ihm uncomfortable. No, it was in the way of envy, he wanted her to look at him that way. Like she was thirsty and he was the only one who could quench the thirst; but she wouldn't. Her eyes were glued to Hannah, and a few times he caught her tongue darting out to lick her lips. Even when they kissed, he'd peek and she'd be watching. And once, he chanced a wink at her as if trying to tell her he was pretending those thin lips were hers. He would kiss her much differently than he kissed Hannah; he was reserved and didn't bite back when Hannah drug his lip between her teeth. He didn't play with her tongue when it slid into his mouth and stroked his. But if was _her,_ he'd shove his tongue in her mouth and dominate the kiss, he'd grip her luscious hips and pull her as close against him as he could, he'd bite that plump bottom lip until it was apparent she'd been kissed later. But he couldn't admit to that. It would be wrong, he was with Hannah and she was anything but a prize. He had grown to like her, admire her. She was everything in a woman that he loved, except not. She didn't have near the intelligence _she_ had, her eyes weren't bright and fun like _hers._ She wasn't _her_ plain and simple. She wasn't Brennan.

It wasn't until he had seen her interacting with another male, a collegue of his that he nearly slipped. He had gone home, grabbed the blonde a little rough and delighted in her excited squeals as he dragged her to the bedroom. They had tossed the sheets around, thumped the headboard against the wall, filled the rooms and maybe even the hall with moans and grunts, and it nearly slipped on his last grunt. With sweat covering his torso, his muscles clenched tight, his jaw taut, he nearly spoke _her name_. At the last minute, at the tail end of his excitement did he shout the cute blonde's name. He had waited for her to fall asleep before taking a walk. The night air had been cold against his skin, but not enough to deplete the erection he still had because he had faked his climax. The blonde wasn't enough, but thinking of _her_ was. But thinking of her would give him away. It would all come full force to the light and he would have to explain himself, and accept what he truly felt. That his wants were irrational and unacceptable. He couldn't admit to it, to anyone.

Until she pulled him in her office, locked the door and forced him to sit on her couch. She had looked so tired, so burnt out, and yet she looked wild. As if there was something in her that needed to be tamed. When her hand landed on his thigh, squeezed and inched upward, it was too much. His senses were too high so he had moved away from her, and distanced his emotions from his face, but not before he caught the embarrassment hit her features. He listened with carefulness to everything she said, he pictured and analyzed everything she spoke of, form every fantasy to every detail and emotion she explained. When she had begun to apologize, he wanted to wrap his arms around her and force her to believe she didn't need to be sorry. When she ran thorugh the last fantasy, and was telling him to stay away from her he had broke. He had dropped to his knees, his hands grabbing her thighs firmly and beginning to slowly pull them apart. She had flinched, nearly jumped back when he touched her. But he spoke anyway noticing the drop in his tone. He had told her all his fantasies, told her he'd make hers come true. He'd pull her to her desk right in that moment and hoist her up on it. All the caution had lef this tone, confidence embracing every word as it fell from his lips. Every dirty detail, every time he thought of her as he climaxed, every time he wanted to take her against the wall; it all came out in a rush, just like hers had. He all but told her how he really felt. That Hannah was just a prize to rub in her face as revenge for rejecting him on the steps. That he really wanted her, under him, next to him, every day. But before he could, she had taken the moment he took a breath to speak. And it all but devastated him.

Her version of reality, though it made sense didn't agree with him. And when she brushed his cheek with her hand he had tried to lean into it but she was on her feet and at the door before he could. She left him there, to think about what she said, to let it soak in and believe. But he couldn't, he couldn't let himself believe she was right let alone accept it. So he had sat there, on the floor of her office, with an erection, and his mind stuck in overdrive. He didn't chase after her, he didn't call her numerous times or manipulate her into giving in like he usually would. He let her go and decided to agree with her, let Hannah and his relationship ride its way out. And once it had, he'd make sure she knew how bad he wanted her.

 _ **The End**_


End file.
